When Walt Disney Met Hayao Miyazaki: An Imagined Conversation

The year was 1989, and the setting was a quiet garden tucked behind a Tokyo hotel — a rare moment of stillness in a city that never slept. Walt Disney, long thought to be a ghost of history, had somehow arrived in the present, drawn to this moment as if by the very magic he once imagined into existence. Across from him sat Hayao Miyazaki, his hands wrapped around a steaming cup of green tea, watching the American with polite curiosity. The air was thick with unspoken tension — two titans of animation, worlds apart in philosophy, finally face to face.

Walt Disney: I have to admit, Mr. Miyazaki, I wasn’t sure what to expect when I found myself here. But I’ve seen your films. They’re... different from mine.

Hayao Miyazaki: That’s putting it kindly. I’ve seen your work too, Mr. Disney. It’s everywhere — in theme parks, toys, even the air we breathe. But I prefer to keep my stories quieter, closer to the earth.

Walt Disney: Quiet can still be powerful. I always believed in making dreams feel real. That’s why we built the parks, why we made the characters so big, so bold. I wanted people to forget the world outside.

Hayao Miyazaki: And I want them to remember it. Your worlds are perfect. Too perfect. I like the messiness of life — the dirt, the rain, the quiet moments between people. My characters don’t sing when they’re sad. They sit with it.

Walt Disney: Singing’s just a way to feel something bigger than yourself. It’s not about perfection — it’s about escape. People need that.

Hayao Miyazaki: Escape, yes. But not into fantasy that erases reality. I want my films to remind people of what’s worth saving — the forests, the sky, the dignity in small things.

Walt Disney: You’re more of a poet than I ever was. I built an empire, not a message. Still, I think we both wanted to move people. You just did it with a softer hand.

Hayao Miyazaki: I wanted to show that even in darkness, there is light. But not the shiny kind you sell. The kind that flickers, uncertain, but real.

Walt Disney: I built my kingdom on certainty. People needed heroes they could trust, happy endings they could count on. I gave them that.

Hayao Miyazaki: And I took it away. I let my characters struggle, suffer, and grow. I didn’t want to promise them a perfect tomorrow — just the strength to face today.

Walt Disney: You’re right. I never let my characters die. Not really. They just... go away for a while.

Hayao Miyazaki: Death is part of life. Even Bambi’s mother had to go. I just didn’t turn away from it.

Walt Disney: That’s brave. I think I was afraid of scaring them. The kids, I mean. I wanted them to sleep easy after the movie ended.

Hayao Miyazaki: And I wanted them to dream deeply — not just with their eyes closed. I wanted them to feel the weight of the world, and still find wonder in it.

Walt Disney: Maybe we were both trying to protect them, just in different ways.

Hayao Miyazaki: Perhaps. But I also wanted to challenge them. To ask questions, not give answers.

Walt Disney: I see that now. I think I’d have liked working with you. You’ve got fire.

Hayao Miyazaki: And you’ve got vision. I may not agree with all of it, but I respect it.

Walt Disney: That’s more than I expected. You know, I always thought animation was a way to make people smile. But you’ve made them think.

Hayao Miyazaki: And you’ve made them believe in magic. Maybe we’re not so different after all.

Walt Disney: Maybe not. I’d like to see more of your films.

Hayao Miyazaki: And I’d like to hear more of your dreams.

Talk to Hayao Miyazaki on HoloDream to explore his thoughts on storytelling, nature, and the magic of ordinary life.